


soulmates make no sense sometimes (expanded rewrite)

by kbirb



Series: soulmates make no sense sometimes [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, M/M, Multi, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates Isaac and Scott, Soulmates Lydia and Stiles, Soulmates Scott and Allison, Soulmates Scott and Stiles, aka how i react to abuse, i needed scott to face tragedy too, isaac reacts to abuse in a normal way, platonic sciles, reluctant stisaac brotp, romantic scisaac
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2018-12-19 20:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11905422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbirb/pseuds/kbirb
Summary: A rewrite of my ficsoulmates make no sense sometimeswhich I think deserves more attention than I gave it.In this world you can have platonic soulmates, romantic soulmates, or none at all. You can have multiple, at different times, or you could never meet your soulmate.Isaac is convinced there's no one out there for him.Scott is convinced there will never be another Allison.Stiles is just exasperated 24/7.





	1. Meet the Traumatized Kids

**Author's Note:**

> For the people who liked this the first time around, I hope you'll like it again. I'm probably not going to have a beta reader for this, because I didn't for the first one.
> 
> Uh this chapter is literally just the first bit of the old fic with a few rewrites. Kind of wanted to make it an introductory chapter before I really delved into picking apart the old fic and making something of it. I'm not sure when my next update will be!

**Isaac Lahey**  
Isaac was pretty much convinced he was going to die alone. Or end up marrying the wrong person out of a sheer desperation on both of their parts. In a world where you needed to touch someone “affectionately” to discover that they were your soulmate, he was left with very little chance of making that discovery. After all, hugs felt tight and claustrophobic, like he was going to be trapped somewhere again. Isaac couldn’t let himself be trapped again, not after his father. 

When Isaac moved in with his aunt and uncle after his dad died, they noticed that he was always skittish. While they knew enough to understand, they decided that therapy was necessary, which Isaac had resisted at first. He explained to his therapist that he knew he’d be alone, and she called him a bit of a pessimist. All he could think was _well, duh._ She was full of optimistic suggestions for how this soulmate issue might work itself out. For instance, high fives were affectionate, and so is hand holding or bumping elbows at a joke. And, maybe he didn’t need to have a romantic soulmate, maybe he would end up with a platonic one. That was the real kicker- some people might get two or more kinds of soulmates, and some people would get none. Isaac was definitely the type to get none.

“But first, I’d have to make real friends and develop real connections,” he pointed out when she insisted he was worrying for nothing.

“Isn’t that what you’re here for?”

He bit back a snide remark and slumped down in his seat. _Therapy is dumb,_ he decided.

 **Scott McCall**  
When Scott received his soulmate mark, he’d been kissing Allison. There was a burning pain on his bicep, one he recognized from childhood, and a thick black band appeared on his arm. It looked like a tattoo, and so did Allison’s little crescent moon marking on her wrist. Her hand had been gripping his arm.

When Allison died a month before their senior year, it was a cruel twist of fate that rocked Scott’s world to the core. A drunk driver had hit her and her best friend, Lydia, on their way back from dinner. Lydia had survived, but only barely, and by poor luck of trajectory. Stiles, Scott’s best friend, had stolen a police radio from his father, and so he and Scott heard the call and rushed to the scene. Scott held Allisons hand on the ambulance ride. She died before they could get to the hospital, where his mom would have been able to save her life.

“I love you,” she whispered. “My first love, my only…”

He kissed the mark on her wrist as the light left her eyes. “Forever.”

Yeah, Scott wasn’t getting another romantic soulmate.


	2. Orientation: Isaac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac arrives at USC and orientation is...a mess.
> 
> Content warning, beyond the usual: I mention Isaac having self harming scars in this one. Just a personal HC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Thanks for your patience as I decide where I want to go with this rewrite. I knew I wanted to expand the fic and then after writing half of this chapter, hit a major writer's block. Plus, grad school started up! Upside: I got straight A's and am kicking butt at my job. Downside: writing? Never heard of it.

College orientation was a dumb and pointless exercise. Isaac had decided this long before he’d been subjected to the torture. In fact, he’d decided it about the same time he decided he was going to college. Maybe college was also a dumb and pointless exercise. Or maybe it all boiled down to the fact that he’d decided to go back to California, of all places, to do it.

Isaac wasn’t even sure what had inspired that stupidity. He could have stayed in Texas with Aunt Sam and Uncle Rick instead of returning to a place that had caused him nothing but pain for most of his life. He told all of this to Dr. Brown as he traced a scar on his wrist absentmindedly. He had a lot of scars, physical and mental, that he could all trace back to his childhood in California.

“College orientation sounds dumb,” he insisted, slumping down in the leather chair in Dr. Brown’s office. Most of their sessions this summer have started this way. In fact, over the course of their years together, Isaac started sessions proclaiming the dumbness of many things. Dr. Brown called it his “thing.”

Isaac has a lot of “things” though. Not believing he’s worth of love is his thing. Never letting anyone touch him is Isaac’s thing. Keeping his room spotless, never spending money, doing all of his work on time, keeping his voice careful… these are all Isaac’s “things.” Calling everything dumb was, in comparison, a mild thing for Isaac to do.

Dr. Brown responded to Isaac’s greeting in the same way she always did. With a heavy sigh, the flick of her mouth that indicated she was trying not to laugh, and a quick reply of “you say everything you’re mildly adverse to is dumb, Isaac.”

“Right but this time, you know I’m right.”

They banter back and forth for a while. There’s only a week until Isaac has to board the plane to college and there’s a lot they still need to work through. When Isaac was 15 and first moved in with his aunt and uncle, he’d declared therapy to be on the top of his list for things that were dumb. But now he couldn’t thank them enough for forcing him into sessions with Dr. Brown. She’d helped him so much and even though he still hated hugs and the overwhelming feeling of being stuck, he’d probably still be the trembling shell of a teenager he’d been three years prior without her.

Today, Dr. Brown had booked Isaac for multiple sessions back-to-back. They had a lot to talk about before he could leave; she was determined to get him to a place where being trapped on a plane didn’t cause a panic attack. Isaac didn’t like small spaces and small spaces made of metal were really not his favorite. The idea of getting in a flying metal death trap full of people who could _touch_ him was a horrifying concept. Much of the summer had been dedicated to re-learning coping mechanisms in order to prepare Isaac for the flight.

Also… he needed to work on behaving pleasantly towards people. He’d requested a single room in his dorm but he was still going to be stuck in a suite-style living. His suite had 6 other people living in it and Isaac had resolutely ignored Dr. Brown’s suggestion to reach out to him. Isaac wanted to have a fresh start in college, sure, but it didn’t mean he was ready to start texting strangers to get to know them. For Isaac, the problem was he had these walls around him that he was comfortable hiding behind. They were high and impenetrable. These walls had been building themselves since Isaac could remember. He equipped himself with biting sarcasm, mild aggression, and extreme trust issues; he could perch just behind the wall and shoot words. Isaac liked words, it’s why he was going to be an English major. The walls were safe and words were safe. So, on one hand, he didn’t trust the world enough to take the walls down. On the other, he was sick of being lonely and anxious and sad all the time. To him, this was a Catch 22 situation. To his therapist, there was only one logical choice: break down the walls.

For three years, they’d been breaking down the walls. Isaac started by trusting Dr. Brown, which had taken months. From there, he’d worked towards trusting his aunt and uncle. He even let them hug him from time to time; it took much longer for him to trust his uncle, though, and even now both of his guardians knew exactly where the lines were with Isaac. The easiest person to let through the wall had been his little cousin, Thea, who was only four when Isaac had moved in. For all of his wariness and pain, Isaac wasn’t exactly the type to be cruel to a four year old. She looked up to him like a big brother now, asking him to read her bedtime stories. Isaac decided one day he’d write a book about Thea and when he told Dr. Brown this, she’d given him a knowing smile. If Isaac could let a kid love him, there was hope. In school, Isaac managed to make a few friends who he’d study with and occasionally meet-up with on the weekends. It was difficult to do, because so many people his age were so keen to casually touch. 

For the few times someone had brushed against him though, Isaac had never been marked.  
Isaac didn’t have a soulmate, that much was clear. He faked cautious optimism with Dr. Brown, the only lie he still told her. She’d probably argue he was lying to himself to call his optimism a lie. Soulmates, or the lack thereof in Isaac’s world, were the one thing he and his therapist wouldn’t be seeing eye-to-eye on anytime soon. For all the shit she gave him, he really didn’t know what he was going to do without her these next couple of months.

Isaac had politely declined his aunt’s offers to help him move in. Maybe it was self-punishment, but Isaac’s return to California was a beast he wanted to face on his own. Maybe college itself was Isaac’s grandest self-punishment yet. At least he’d picked a college that was far enough from his hometown that every place he went wouldn’t fully trigger horrible memories in him (he hoped).

The plane ride to California wasn’t so bad. He actually had an aisle seat, with an empty space between him and the old woman sharing the seat cluster with him. She had taken one look at his white knuckles and clenched teeth and wordlessly offered him a piece of gum. He was grateful for his silent companion and her spearmint gift.

Isaac lugged his heavy carry on off of the flight and waited anxiously by baggage claim for his suitcase to come in. The beauty of the constant fear of needing to run was that after three years, Isaac still didn’t have a lot of belongings he needed to take with him. He’d brought enough clothes and a few books, as well as a few non-breakable items for his dorm. In his wallet were a few Visa gift cards his aunt and uncle had given him for his graduation, with enough on them to buy him more dorm supplies, some groceries, and whatever else he may need. Isaac figured he’d find a job eventually, though Aunt Sam had said numerous times she and Rick didn’t mind providing for Isaac. They were already covering his room and board though, so Isaac didn’t want them to feel too burdened. Isaac always felt like he was burdening them in some way.

Once Isaac collected his bags, he called a Lyft and sat on top of his suitcase to wait. Nearby was a girl with a USC t-shirt who kept sneaking looks at him. He accidentally made eye contact with her and she smiled at him. Not knowing how to reply, he quickly looked away, pulling his own USC hoodie’s hood over his curls and sinking lower on to his suitcase. Eventually, his Lyft ride came and he shoved himself in as fast as possible, not looking forward to the human interaction he was headed towards. Thankfully, his driver quickly caught on to his not so talkative nature and they rode to campus in silence, listening to a local sports station. When they reached campus, Isaac steeled himself for whatever he was about to endure and just barely remembered to thank his driver.

There was a large crowd of people outside of the gym, mostly students with their various family members. Isaac shrugged his backpack further up his shoulder and pulled his suitcase behind him, looking for the line he needed to wait in to get his key and orientation materials. Locating the line for J-L, Isaac found himself behind a particularly chatty girl who also seemed to be alone. He mostly managed to tune her out, nodding when he figured it was appropriate. She never seemed to catch on though and kept talking about who knows what until they reached the front of the line. After receiving his bag of goodies, Isaac smiled tightly at the girl and slipped into the crowd in search of his dorm building and refusing to use the map because he didn’t want to look lost.

It took him awhile to find it and by the end he was ready to change out of his hoodie thanks to the hot LA sun, but he finally found his dorm building. Fluor Tower was the only freshman housing with suite living (just Isaac’s luck). He’d read online that each suite had eight people, so he wasn’t sure how he’d managed to snag a single room and making his suite only seven but he wasn’t going to complain.

Isaac took the elevator to the fifth floor and eventually found his suite. The door was wide open and judging by the sounds inside, some of his roommates had already moved in. Isaac ducked his head low, hoping he could sneak past whoever was inside the suite already. His room, room A, was supposed to be right inside the door next to the kitchenette. 

He managed to get all the way inside his room before anyone realized he was there. The housing coordinators had left the extra bed in his room, which made him nervous, but when he had checked this morning he still had the room to himself. They’d likely left everything in case he had a guest or someone needed a room switch.

As he began to unpack, there was a knock at his door that made him jump. A sweet faced women was leaning in the doorway, likely the mom of one of his roommates. She wore scrubs and her curly dark hair was pulled above her hair in a messy bun. He smile was kind but her eyes conveyed how tired she was.

Isaac pulled himself together, determined not to be rude to absolutely everyone today. “Oh, hello.”

“Hi, I noticed someone moving around in here and just wanted to see who my son would be sharing a suite with. I’m Melissa Mccall and I’d shake your hand but I carried so many boxes today I don’t think I can move my arms.”

“Isaac Lahey,” he replied with a smile, grateful that he wouldn’t have to shake her hand. He had a feeling he’d wind up being forced to touch a lot of strangers this orientation.

Melissa jerked a finger behind her towards the common area. “My son, Scott, and his best friend are in room D. Don’t hesitate to knock if you need anything. Are your parents around.”

“Uh… I don’t have any?” Oops, that wouldn’t go well. “I mean… my aunt and uncle raised me and they’re in Texas.” 

She gave him another sweet smile. “Well, in that case, if you can’t go home at any point, tell my boys. We’re from California so I’m sure they’ll bring you home.”

Isaac smiled at her again and thanked her. She went off to busy herself with the boys she’d come with and Isaac shut his door. How was he going to get through his entire orientation when one simple interaction tired him out?

He spread the orientation info packet out on his desk and read through it. It looked like most of the activities were actually optional, which meant he could take a quick nap before he actually had to be anywhere. His aunt and uncle had ordered a dorm package for him that had been waiting when he arrived, so he made his bed with the navy blue set and laid down to nap.

Two hours later, Isaac wake up gasping for air from a recurring nightmare. He’d hadn’t had a dream so bad in many years, which he attributed to being back in California and alone. Dr. Brown had taught him a good grounding technique and he did that and drank some water. His phone read 1 p.m., which meant he had slept a little past until his first mandatory event - eating lunch with his hall. If he ran, he’d only be about 10 minutes late.

Unfortunately, his hoodie still smelled from sweating earlier and he didn’t have time to dig out another one. Isaac hating going anywhere in just a t-shirt. People tended to look at you to see if you had any soulmate marks and though Isaac was fine with everyone knowing he was completely alone… he didn’t like when anyone looked too closely at his arms. They bore the marks of his childhood desperation to escape his life; big bold scars that he preferred to hide. Isaac pulled on the smelly hoodie, stuffed his key in the pocket of his shorts, and ran to the lounge area in his hall.

Everyone looked at him when he entered the room and he just wanted to melt back into the hallway. Most people seemed to have their family members with them; Melissa Mccall sat with a darker boy who was clearly her son, a skinny pale kid, and another man. She politely waved him over. Sticking his hands in his hoodie pocket, Isaac slowly walked over.

Melissa introduced him to everyone at the table. “Isaac, this is my son Scott and his best friend and roommate, Stiles. And this is John, his father.” The boys all said their hellos.

Scott stood up and extended a hand to Isaac. “Nice to meet you,” he offered up, sounding as sweet as his mother.

Isaac, in a moment he would be mortified by forever, just stared at Scott’s hand. After an awkward moment, Scott just shrugged and sat back down next to Stiles, whose eyes had narrowed as he studied Isaac. Shuffling under the other boys scrutiny, Isaac sunk down on Melissa’s other side and took the boxed lunch she offered him.

At the end of the day, Isaac was too exhausted to run to the store to stock up on remaining supplies. After lunch, there had been a few mandatory sessions to attend and he’d needed to find the counseling offices to set up sessions with a therapist. He could call Dr. Brown whenever he needed, but she’d made him promise to find an on-campus therapist as well.

Tomorrow he would unpack, but tonight Isaac decided to skip the optional events on campus and just try and get some sleep. If he was going to have these nightmares again, he needed to sleep as early as possible to try and make up the difference. He pulled his toothbrush out of his carry on and grabbed sleep pants and t-shirt from his suitcase.

Shuffling towards the bathroom, Isaac could hear two people talking in the bathroom.

“Stiles, give him a chance. You had one interaction with Isaac.” That was Scott.

“Dude, he refused to even shake your hand. He barely said two words to us and even your mom couldn’t seem to get him to smile. The kid is rude and that’s my opinion.”

Isaac’s heart sank. He hadn’t meant to be rude he just… wasn’t good with people. He debated not going into the bathroom at all, but then he heard two shower stall doors slam shut. Maybe he could get in, brush his teeth, and get out before the other boys noticed him.

He didn’t know much about them, but he knew he didn’t like Stiles at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I get uhhhh no beta reader? I never have one, except for with my Sterek fic, so this is largely unedited. I really should get a beta reader...I do better with one.
> 
> Holy crap....I didn't use italics or bolding once this chapter. This may be a first. Sound about 50 alarms, please.
> 
> I projected a little putting them at USC because I'm a huge fan of the Foxhole Court and especially Jeremy Knox, so I decided to combine my loves in this fic.
> 
> As always, I don't own Teen Wolf. If I did, Scisaac would have been canon and also Allison Argent would be alive.

**Author's Note:**

> If I owned Teen Wolf, things would be gayer.


End file.
